


bewitched

by titaniaeli



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alpha Clarke, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, BAMF Bellamy Blake, Bigotry & Prejudice, F/M, Fear of Discovery, Gen, Multi, Pack Dynamics, Possessiveness, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Witch Bellamy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-03-23 21:39:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 10,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13796874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titaniaeli/pseuds/titaniaeli
Summary: In a world where normals, wolves and witches coexist, the wolves of the Hundred doesn’t start waking up until they were sent to the ground.Witch Bellamy Blake already had his hands full trying to keep control of a bunch of delinquents and protecting his wolf sister, he was not interested in guiding a pack of inexperienced and unstable wolves headed by Alpha Clarke Griffin, the infuriating princess of the Ark.





	1. Chapter 1

The first full moon on earth was a major source of headache for him, and he had to spent the entire night trying to rein in a group of panicked wolves, including one stubborn Alpha. Half of them were lost and confused, and the other half berserk with power.

Out of the wolves that had emerged from the hundred, Octavia had been one of them, and he had been obliged to restrain them before they went careening into the unknown forest outside the Dropship. A much better plan than what Wells Jaha had tried to do when his best friend started sprouting fur over her body. Lunging at a feral wolf was a one-way ticket to hell.

He’s pretty sure none of the new wolves understood what exactly had happened during their transformations. Of course, waking up naked confused with dirt in their mouths probably had been a glaring hint, but at least they didn’t remember being controlled by his magic.

Perhaps controlled was a little... harsh. He hadn’t done anything insidious like mind-control—not that he could do such a thing, contrary to popular belief about witches. What he done was slipped into their consciousness and forcefully linked all the unbonded wolves together for a single night. Or something similar to that. The link had acted like a makeshift pack bond—until they got their shit together the next shift anyway.

He discovered other witches amongst the delinquents, but they were all young and wholly unequipped. And none of them had the proper understanding of their own magic.

Aurora Blake had been a normal human, but his witch genes had come directly from his biological father. The only thing he has of his unknown father was a book of runes that he had vehemently refused to sell no matter how hungry he got.

So, he had become an _erilaz_ like his father. And he was tremendously good in it. He had a deft hand and a near-photographic memory, and imbuing magic in objects came naturally to him. Runes bended easily to his will, like breathing.

Besides, compared to other forms of magic, it was subtle. Witches were seen with a fair degree of scepticism and caution on the Ark, and he loved his magic too much to give it up.

On the ground, only Octavia knew he’s a witch. His sister used to be envious of his magic, and he wondered if it’s any better that her wolf genes had awakened on earth. He only met Octavia’s father once, but he’s pretty sure the man wasn’t a wolf. Maybe he had some wolf genes in his ancestry, and the magic on the ground had awaken the dormant genes in Octavia’s blood.

Clarke had quickly become something like a leader to the wolves, but damn if he would allow her to get in his way. Alpha or not, he’s not a wolf and there was no way he’s bowing to her whims.

The only wolf that had truly bonded to her was Jasper, and with him came the normal Monty Green. Murphy clung to his independence fiercely, even though his human side was loyal to Bellamy. Octavia’s wolf had immediately recognized him as pack. Harper’s wolf was sceptical of Clarke, and she remained mostly neutral between the two feuding leaders.

Monroe had taken one look at the blonde Alpha and found her wanting, turning away to give her loyalty to the witch that had subdued her wolf instead. Her wolf remembered Bellamy’s magic, and it acknowledged strength. Miller had stuck with him, but his wolf was unnervingly impartial.

They weren't a pack. Yet. He has an inkling that it was evident. He didn't need to be a wolf to know that Clarke Griffin was a particularly powerful Alpha. Although most of the wolves did not fall under her leadership immediately, they still subconsciously looked to her for guidance. Other than that, they stuck to themselves.

But during full moons, as if they had abandoned all human sensibilities or prejudices, the wolves all ran together.


	2. Chapter 2

He found Fox hovering over the small patch of rosemary, trying to urge the herb to grow faster. He leaned against a tree, observing the girl’s progress with a raised brow.

After a minute of bending over the garden, Fox straightened up with a loud curse of frustration. She punched the ground beneath her angrily.

“You’re using too much magic.” He commented drily.

Fox jumped in surprise, spinning around to stare up at him with wide doe eyes. Her face turned a bright red when she noticed who it was.

“Bell—Bellamy.” She stuttered, twisting her fingers together nervously. Then she seemed to realize what he said, looking at him with a curious frown. “You are—um—like me?”

“Rosemary are easy herbs. They don’t need much magic to grow.” He continued. “They tend to be over-watered. Magic works the same way. You can’t ‘water’ them too much.”

He walked over to her and dropped to his knees. Carefully, he slid his fingers through the soil, feeling the prickly stem against his skin. With a soft whisper, he urged the plant to grow, threading his magic into the dirt and seeds. The plant fluttered as if there’s a breeze, and then it crept up his arm, as if reaching for the sun.

Fox sucked in a startled breath, staring with quiet fascination.

The plant stopped growing somewhere around his shoulder, where it bloomed a small, wan-looking flower with dripping lavender petals. He skimmed a finger over a petal, prompting the plant to untwine around his arm.

“Can—Can you teach me how to do that?” Fox broke the silence, her eyes round and desperate.

Bellamy hesitated, his brows furrowing. To let himself be vulnerable in front of these delinquents—even though Fox was one of the harmless ones—felt wrong. He had grown up his entire life hiding his capabilities in front of others. Saying that he’s possessive of his own magic was an understatement.

“You already know how to do that. You just lack control.” He said, clearing his throat. He supposed teaching an amateur witch simple control was innocuous, even though his own knowledge was barely better than her in the first place. “But I suppose I can spare a little time to teach you.”

Ever since he got to the ground, he has been stared at with respect, with contempt, with interest, but never with such innocent wonder. Fox looked at him like he had just summoned rain or opened up the earth instead of simply urging a plant to grow faster. It reminded him a little of how Octavia used to look at him when she was a child under the floor.

“Thank you!” Fox said enthusiastically, her face lighting up with delight.

He held up one hand to stall her enthusiasm. He’s not going to play favourites amongst these bunch of delinquents, even if Fox was a witch like him.

“ _But_ —” He said emphatically, feeling just a pinch of guilt at her wilting expression. “Only when I’m available. _And_ you have to do your assigned jobs well.”

If the others noticed him spending too much time with Fox, they are going to start questioning him. Fox was physically weak, with no significant skills other than a slight potential for nature magic to contribute. The other delinquents would start to wonder why he’s spending so much time with her, and he has no desire for anyone to find out about his magic. His authority can’t be questioned during such a fragile time, and the only person in the camp (other than his sister) that came close to having his trust was Miller.

“Got it!” Fox said eagerly, saluting him with a thoughtless handwave.

He rolled his eyes as he watched her scampered away. He was surprised to feel himself smiling at her back, and quickly wiped his expression clean before anyone saw his smile.

He shook his head and stood up, slapping the dirt off his palms. He had let his guard down in front of a witch, and that’s the last time it’s going to happen.


	3. Chapter 3

It sometimes surprised him how someone’s world could change so quickly in a moment. His mother was floated. His sister was arrested. He was demoted from the brightest cadet of his generation to a janitor that everyone sneered at.

Even though he had not been the one to hold the blade, he still felt responsible for Wells Jaha’s death. Murphy’s banishment and Charlotte’s suicide were a heavy weight on his shoulders as well. He had let down everyone.

For all the magic he held in his body, he couldn’t turn back time to change things.

His words had sent Charlotte on an ill-fated vengeance, causing Clarke to lose the best friend she had just gained back and for him to accuse an innocent man.

He was so tired. For all the ‘whatever the hell we want’ speech he had made, there’s no escaping the responsibilities he took on as a leader. Despite being delinquents, all of them were just kids, sent to the ground with no food and necessities to survive.

The camp had dispersed after Clarke and he had announced Murphy’s banishment. In spite of the exhaustion, he couldn’t sleep and had relieved Harper from her watch.

When he first opened the doors of the Dropship, he had been briefly overwhelmed by the magic on the ground. There was just... so much. It rushed at him like a long-lost friend, tangling around his blood and veins and body, cajoling for him to let loose and join their dance. It was so tempting in the beginning, when his control was still in disarray, to walk straight out into the forest and not look back.

There was nothing stopping him anymore. He was free from his stifling duty of protecting Octavia, free of the patronizing and pitying looks from the adults on the Ark, free from hiding his magic.

For the first time in his life, it felt like he was allowed to be the person he was.

A _witch_.

“Can’t sleep?” A voice called out from below him.

He tossed aside the twig he had been playing with and glanced down. Standing beneath the tree branch he’s perched on was his co-leader.

Her eyes seemed to glow in the darkness, her blond hair a shining beacon around her head.

“What give me away?” He asked dryly, not moving an inch. Either she’s coming up, or she could stay down there and talk.

He heard her huffed with laughter and he leaned back, gazing up at the night sky. After a moment, he heard movement below, and then Clarke was positioning herself carefully next to him. She looked entirely at ease despite the thinner branch she had settled herself on. Must be nice to have superhuman reflexes and strength, he mused.

“For all the strength I have gained down here, I should have been fast enough to catch her.” She whispered.

There’s no need to clarify who she’s talking about.

They all have their demons. They all wished they could change things. Just as he had wished he was stronger to pull her up when she jumped.

“She made her decision.” He answered, but his voice sounded flat and faraway to his ears.

The loss of a young witch would always hurt.

“Do you really think so?” Clarke asked. He couldn’t be bothered to discern the emotion in her voice. There were too many things plaguing his mind already.

“I just know that she’s dead.” He said.

Clarke didn’t reply, and he felt slightly guilty for his bluntness. But he was too tired to take back his words. He blinked and looked down when he felt a small hand slipped into his. She tightened her grip around his hand reassuringly, as if she’s trying to comfort _him._

As if he’s the one who had lost his best friend.

He doesn’t know if it’s her Alpha instincts, or just plain Clarke, but he wanted to laugh at how she’s trying to comfort someone who has been tormenting her since they landed on the ground.

“Do you know the story of Asteria?” He asked, staring up at the stars twinkling at them.

He felt Clarke’s hair tickled the side of his neck as she shook her head, following his gaze.

“No, who’s that?” She replied, genuinely curious.

“She’s the goddess of falling stars, prophetic dreams and astrology. She birthed Hecate, the Mother of Magic and is—” _our_ , he nearly said. “The goddess of the witches...”


	4. Chapter 4

There’s survivors on the ground. Of fucking course.

Now he knew why his instincts have been screaming at him since the Dropship landed. After the whole clusterfuck with Octavia and the grounder, he paced the perimeters with his nerves threatening to jump out of his skin.

Finn was dying from a poison none of them understood, the grounder was refusing to talk, Clarke was driving him crazy and if she snapped at him _one more fucking time_ in that self-righteous Alpha tone, he’d search the entire world just to find a way to turn a person inside out.

It’s not like he particularly liked Finn Collins. The guy advocated for peace so strongly, yet refused to dirty his hands when necessary. There’s no such thing as peace without violence.

But Finn was one of his, no matter how much he wanted to throttle the guy at times. Witches were not as territorial as wolves, yet they were possessive of their own, and Bellamy—well, his protective tendencies was ingrained from years of trying to protect Octavia.

He was not a healer. Herbs and poisons were a puzzle to him. Give him a rune and he could deconstruct it to its base origin, and then redesign it to fit it with a stronger, _better_ version of itself.

His anger with the grounder’s reluctance to talk had sent him out of the Dropship fuming, especially with how protective his sister was of a complete stranger—a stranger that had _kidnapped_ her. Excuse him for being furious.

He needed to get out of that enclosed space before he blew something up accidentally.

He stopped by a tree, glaring at the trunk with barely contained fury. He dug into his back pocket for a knife and started cutting into the rough bark.

He had originally wanted to carve a simple rune for ‘protection’, but finding out that there’s a bunch of ground people out for their blood rattled him. The more complicated a runic protection, the more magic he had to employ. And on the Ark, he has never had the opportunity to utilize such complicate runic arrangements before.

 _Ihwaz_ for defence, _algiz_ for protection, _ansuz_ to increase his alertness. Sweat dripped down his temple as he cut into the trunk. His magic felt like sparks around his fingers, his blood tingling from the surge. He added one last _uruz_ , for strength of mind for the delinquents to stand strong in the face of adversity. Binding the runes together, he staggered back to stare at his work.

Outwardly, there doesn’t seemed to be any changes. The carvings on the tree would go unnoticed if one did not actively look for it, or possessed a sharp eye.

It was a tasteless show of magic, more crude and indelicate despite the finesse of his control. But living on the Ark meant that he worked with whatever he got, and right now all he got was a knife and himself.

It would not protect them from an army, but at least it could deter one or two idiots from attacking the Dropship.

He stowed his knife away, trying to shake away the exhaustion in his limbs as he made his way back towards the gates. He has a grounder to finish torturing and a Finn Collins to save.


	5. Chapter 5

He was still reeling from killing Dax, blood splattered over his face and his hands shaking. The wolf was slumped by his side, motionless. He heard a low snarl and he slowly looked up at Clarke, at her wolfed-out shining blue eyes and the speckle of red that dotted her cheek when she slashed at Dax with her sharp nails.

He stopped breathing.

At that moment, he felt like he was prey, being dissected under a microscope. And then the glow faded from her eyes and she was skidding to his side, sliding a warm hand against his throat. He muffled his whimper, resisting the urge to tilt his head back and bare his neck at the Alpha. He viciously stomped back the urge, feeling his cheeks warmed.

He was not a damn wolf, and he’s not going to succumb to his baser instincts in front of Clarke just because she’s an Alpha.

“I’m sorry.” She apologized, her lips set in a deep frown as she stared at Dax’s body. “I should have sensed him. I don’t know why I—”

“The hallucinogen.” He cut her off. “Must be something we ate that fucked up your senses.”

Dammit, being thrown to the ground by a wolf felt like being bludgeoned in the gut by a club. He sat up, wheezing breathlessly.

“That should never have happened.” Clarke scowled fiercely, dropping down tiredly beside him.

He waved an exhausted hand at her, realized that he was still trembling and pressed his hands against his thighs.

“You’re shaking.” Clarke observed in worry.

“Shock.” He rasped, averting his gaze. He could still see the leftover effects of the hallucinogen in front of him, the spectres standing menacingly in silence as they judged him with dead eyes.

Clarke stifled the growl building in her throat, caught off guard by the wave of protectiveness that washed over her. She stared at his quivering hands, his fear and guilt reeking on his body, and wanted to reach out to bury her face against his throat and coated him with her scent.

She quickly looked away in confusion.

“What did you see?” She asked, her voice in her throat.

He laughed bitterly. “Dead people.”

He didn’t elaborate, nor did she ask him to. Jake Griffin sat heavily on her heart.

“If my mother knew what I had done... who I am... She raised me to be better, to be good.” He snorted humourlessly. “And all I do is hurt people. I’m a _monster_.”

He leaned against the tree, closing his eyes. Magic twirled around him, cajoling him to drift off with them. He remembered his first thought when he first came down, his desire to disappear into the forest and not look back.

He had looked after Octavia his entire life, shot a man just to come down to the ground for her. Wasn’t it enough?

“You saved my life today.” Clarke said strongly, leaning over to glare at him. She was embarrassed that Dax had gotten the drop on her. She was supposed to protect her people. “You may be a total ass half the time, but I need you. We need you.”

And even though she was trying to convince Bellamy to stay, she knew she was speaking the truth. Their little band of delinquents would never have listened to her if Bellamy wasn’t there. He had corralled them together on the first day, gave them a purpose. Half of them might already be dead if Bellamy had not taken control at the helm. No one would have listen to the privileged kids of the Ark.

She would have been lost without Bellamy’s steady presence.

He looked up at her through dark lashes, and she’s too aware that he’s barely a breath away from her. His eyes were stricken and soft, and she could make out each individual freckle on his face.

She didn’t know when she started caring about this asshole who managed to push all her buttons from day one, or when she looked at Bellamy and stopped feeling as if she had to challenge him for the leadership position, when she started thinking _mine_ instead _._ Her wolf purred in her head, and she doesn’t even feel embarrassed for it.

It’s not as bad as she thought it would feel either.


	6. Chapter 6

The attempted alliance with the grounder princess fell through, not that he’s surprised. Besides, it was the _grounder_ who tried to attack Clarke first.

Then, Clarke and Finn went missing for several hours, and when they finally returned, there’s a war coming their way and all they had was a makeshift wall and a bunch of guns with barely any bullets. Their wolves were inexperienced and their witches were untrained.

Furthermore, Monty was missing for two days now.

Perhaps when he’s dead, he might finally have peace instead of dealing with all these problems piling up on him.

His magic felt useless when he couldn’t even use it to protect anyone.

“Anya is a witch.” Clarke was saying, sitting at the head of the little circle formed around the small fire. “She carved some kind of defence sigil on Tris’s armour. It’s the only reason I managed to save her.”

“So, you saved her second and yet she’s still going to kill us all.” Jasper replied disbelievingly.

He inwardly agreed with the little pup, but he didn’t say anything out loud. He approached them silently, sitting down beside Miller, who barely acknowledged him with a soft grunt.

“It’s not her choice. She’s not the Commander.” Clarke said, but even her excuse sounded weak to her own ears.

“ _Witches_.” Finn muttered, shaking his head. “They always break their promises.”

Bellamy bit back the flare of irritation at the other boy’s tone. It’s not like this was the first time he heard something like that. Prejudice against witches on the Ark was common. Wolves were simple to understand; they transform during the full moon, were stronger than average as humans, and got occasionally territorial. But witches were a mystery, especially with all the information lost on earth. Magic was an intangible concept to most people on the Ark.

“Hey, she let you go, didn’t she?” Octavia snapped from beside Fox, defensive. “That’s bullshit of you to base her actions on all witches.”

Fox folded her arms across her chest, her expression displeased.

“I—I’m sorry, Fox. That’s not what I meant.” Finn apologized, wincing.

“I have never seen a witch—like Anya before.” Clarke said loudly to change the subject. “I mean the ones on the Ark... they could only do simple stuffs like boiling water, growing plants, keeping the air cool and all that. It’s like the witches down here are different... No offence, Fox.”

“No, you’re right. It’s different with the grounders. Magic... it’s instinctive to them.” Fox’s voice softened, dipping into a wondrous murmur. From his vantage point, he could see the dreamy look on her face, the shadows of the flames dancing across her delicate features.

“How would you know? You haven’t seen any grounder witches.” Raven said, leaning forward curiously.

Fox shrugged. “The magic on earth.” She gazed up at the night sky, as if she could _see_ what the rest could not. “Everything on earth—the trees, the lakes, the flowers, the animals... they are brimming full of magic. It’s almost dizzying. The witches on the ground, they have grown up soaked in all this magic—it must feel like breathing to them.”

Bellamy’s mouth was dry as he listened to her. He thought it was the same for Fox as well. Magic _was_ breathing. It drowned in his body, like an over spilling cup of water, always fighting to get out. Only on the ground, only when he’s sure he doesn’t have to hide anymore, could he let the magic run free.

It was exhilarating.

He wished he could tell Fox how it felt. He wished he could _show_ her how it was for him.

“You know, there’s a practice that the people on the ground have employ even before the nuclear apocalypse on earth. Wolf packs would bond with a witch.” Octavia suddenly said. “Lincoln said that the witch would guide and protect their pack, and the pack would ground their magic. They’re mutually benefiting each other. Anya is probably the Commander’s witch.”

“Fox, maybe you could be Clarke’s witch.” Finn suggested.

“It’s not as simple as that.” Octavia said firmly. “The witch and the Alpha needs to have trust and respect for each other. The pack bond would obviously be stronger if the witch has a connection with the pack.”

“She’s right. And no, I don’t think I can be Clarke’s witch.” Fox smiled, giving said blonde an apologetic nod. “It... just wouldn’t feel right.”

“What does that even mean?” Raven asked.  

“No, I get it.” Clarke said. Fox was a good friend, but there was just no... _spark_ there. It doesn’t feel right at all.

It’s just about time to break up the party. Things were entering dangerous territory now, and with Fox and Octavia both knowing about his magic, he didn’t want one of them to accidentally slip his secret out in front of everyone like this.

“Alright, time for bed.” He said loudly, startling half of them. “There’s a war coming tomorrow and we need our energy.”

There were a lot of protests and moaning, but one raised brow at them sent them scattering back to their tents.

“Good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Clarke grinned, patting his arm before she walked off.

He watched her go with a bemused smile.

“You should be her witch.” Octavia said nonchalantly, coming to stand beside him.

His heart skipped a beat at the way his sister curled her lips around ‘ _her_ witch’. He’s not sure he has ever been anyone’s anything, except for being Octavia’s brother. And he was satisfied with that. He loved being Octavia’s brother. It was a title he would never trade with anything in the world.

“Don’t be ridiculous, O.” He snorted. “Clarke’s like the most powerful Alpha the Ark has ever produced for the last 97 years we spent on that shithole up there. She would need a strong witch to bond with her pack.”

“Big brother, I’m not sure if you’re truly oblivious or just fucking with me.” Octavia said wryly. She walked off without explaining, leaving him staring at her retreating back in confusion.


	7. Chapter 7

He had woken up with Finn yelling in his face. He tried to speak, but choked on the ashes in his throat instead. He blinked rapidly, black powdery soot falling from his lashes.

God, his head fucking hurts.

“Get up, Bellamy.” Finn hissed, looking around in panic. His hair was plastered to his forehead with sticky red blood, and the tips of his locks looked slightly singed.

“What the fuck happened?” He groaned, trying to sit up. He felt a hand supporting his back as he was being hauled up.

“ _You_ tell me.” Finn retorted, staring at him strangely. “We were trying to escape the blast, but it’s obvious we weren’t going to make it far. And then this—this _barrier_? I don’t know—” He exhaled in frustration, and Bellamy felt his blood turned to ice. “It _refracted_ the flames away from us! Although it threw us quite a few feet away too.”

“Oh.” Bellamy said hoarsely, not quite sure how to respond to that.

“ _You_ did that.” Finn stated frankly. “You’re a witch.”

No chance of trying to pretend he has no idea what Finn was talking about.

“Yeah.” He sighed, pushing himself to his feet.

He could see Finn staring at him in his peripheral vision and forced himself to remain calm, even though his insides were twisting themselves into knots. He wasn’t _scared_ of Finn, but it was an instinctive reaction to someone finding out. On the Ark, it would have led to prejudice and wary glances and Aurora Blake losing business. They were too poor to afford losing her tailoring job.

“Well, come on. Let’s go find the others.” Finn finally said.

Bellamy turned and raised a surprised brow at him. He has never liked Finn and his peace seeking ways, and he could tell that the younger man has some mild bigoted views on witches, but he could begrudgingly admit that Finn was ultimately a better man than he was.

“Yeah.” He answered, stifling the dumbfounded look on his face. “Let’s go.”

Finn gave him an almost smug look, like he had just one-upped Bellamy in some way. It made his fingers itched just a bit to smack the self-satisfied smirk off his face.

Scowling darkly at Finn’s back, he stamped down his annoyance to stomp after him.

* * *

Running into Marcus Kane had been wholly unexpected. Running into that bastard Murphy was _slightly_ less surprising, although he was shocked that the damn mutt had dared to come back to the Dropship. His fucking neck still ached at the memory of being hung.

Murphy totally deserved the beating he got. Besides, he’s a damn wolf. He could take a few punches to the face from his human strength.

Being arrested like _he’s_ the one at fault was the last straw though. His magic ached to _burn_ in his anger, sizzling under his skin in a manner that made him felt simultaneously invincible and scared at once.

He hadn’t fall to earth at the price of his soul to return to being interrogated and treated like he’s on the damn Ark again.

It _felt_ like he was on the damn Ark again.

Kane refused to listen to him. He’s locked up right next to _fucking Murphy_ —and the damn wolf was just too far for him to reach out and throttle. With his legs if he had to, because he’s just freaking pissed, okay?!

Clarke and the others were missing and he was stuck in this damn prison with possibly the worst person he could stand to be around now.

“Don’t need to look so unhappy.” Murphy drawled. “It’s not like I am any happier being stuck here with you.”

Bright sparks leaped off the metal cuffs around Bellamy’s wrists as his magic rose dangerously to the surface. The cuffs seemed to shift and whine in protest. He caught Murphy shooting a peculiar look at his wrists, almost as if he was wary.

“Shut up.” He snapped, turning his body slightly to shield the metal cuffs from the wolf’s view. It’s not that he thought the man deserved the torture from the grounders, but he’s sick and tired of listening to his irritating voice.

Another piercing scream from Raven echoed down the hallway outside. Both men flinched.

“Unfortunately, you’re the only one I can talk to now.” Murphy continued loudly, almost drowning out the echo of Raven’s cries. “And I’m bored. Can’t believe I end up landing in the exact same situation after leaving the Ark. It’s like they never learn their lesson at all.”

He privately agreed with Murphy, but outwardly, he pursed his lips and remained silent.

“Come on,” Murphy frowned. “Are you going to ignore me the whole time? I’m sorry about trying to kill you—” Frankly, Bellamy thought that he could at least try to sound sincerer. “But you did try to kill me once too.”

“What, so you want me to forgive and forget?” He retorted.

He immediately regretted acknowledging Murphy’s presence after a victorious smirk flickered across his weasel face. Murphy has got to be the most _weasel-y_ wolf he ever met.

“No, more like an eye for an eye.” Murphy shrugged. “So, let’s start over and all that sweet jazz.”

He probably should have tried better in hiding the incredulous glare on his face.

“Tell me you don’t believe that.” He said dryly.

“Maybe not.” Murphy said easily. “But I wouldn’t dare to be on the shit list of a witch for long.”

It took several seconds before Murphy’s words sank in. He went still, shoulders tensed. This has got to be a record now. Two people finding out in a day...

“How long have you known?” He demanded.

The little shit had the audacity to look surprised. When he gets these cuffs off, he’s really going to strangle the wolf.

“Since like—I don’t know, the third, fourth day?” Murphy replied. “It’s really obvious. I mean, you are literally dripping with magic. You freaking _smelled_ like magic. The others had to be seriously blind or had fluff stuffed in their noses not to notice it.”

Except for Murphy. He always knew the wolf was sharper than he looked.

“Why didn’t you say anything in the beginning?” He asked, calming down slightly. He needed to figure out how to hide his magic one day, if a shitty wolf like Murphy could smell him out so quickly.

“Is it important?” Murphy asked, a little caught off guard. “I thought it was like an obvious thing to everyone.”

“Did it not occur to you something is wrong when I never used my magic in front of others?” He said sarcastically.

“ _Oi_ , magic is practically taboo on the Ark. None of the witches I knew have any practice doing actual, _real_ magic.” Murphy said defensively. “I assumed you just didn’t realize—or know how to use your magic.”

Its times like this that made Bellamy less—well, pissed off at Murphy, and was instead reminded fiercely that he was just a damn kid too.

Before he could reply, Finn came in to break him out. He had Murphy released as well because he’s the only one who has been in the grounders’ camp, nothing more.


	8. Chapter 8

The mission to find Clarke and the rest of the delinquents had been a total disaster from start to finish. Finn killed the grounder they had captured, Sterling fell to his death and they had found not even a strand of hair of Clarke or the other kids.

Even though he was uneasy, he had allowed Finn to continue searching, sending Murphy as backup. He noticed the cracks in Finn’s façade, the desperation making him harder, crueller. Especially after he shot Delano at point blank without remorse. His aura was sharp and a blazing orange, shifting strangely around his body.

But he had been too concerned with Mel and Monroe, and had let Finn go without a second thought.

Their little group stepped through the gates of Camp Jaha, very aware of the gazes they were attracting.

He sensed her before he even saw her. He looked over at the sound of his name being called out. Clarke was running towards him, her smile wide with relief. He reflexively smiled back at her, only to blink in confusion as she threw her arms around his neck.

Octavia whistled lowly beside him, and he caught a glimpse of her stupid, smug smirk.

“ _Bellamy_.” Clarke murmured, tightening her embrace around him. She pressed her nose against his throat and inhaled deeply. Something about that sent a shudder through his body.

And then it was over, Clarke stepping back with her bright smile still fixed on her face. He could still feel her nose pressed against his skin, the sharp inhale and warm breath on his neck. He tried to control his expression, forcing himself to concentrate on the present instead of the hot flush around his neck. He’s not sure if it’s just a Clarke thing or a wolf thing, but she really needed to tone down on the lack of personal space, because he doesn’t think he could handle all the sniffing and touching. It’s like she didn’t even realize she’s doing it.

“The others?” He asked, scanning the group of people gathering near the entrance. No sight of Miller, or Jasper, or any other familiar faces of the hundred.

“Only me.” Clarke’s smile fell instantly. “Long story short, we got captured by Mount Weather. I managed to escape with Anya.”

“Anya?” He said sharply, recognizing the name. “Grounder princess?”

“Don’t think she’s going to appreciate that nickname.” Octavia snorted. “Where is she?”

Clarke started walking back in, and the two siblings clambered to follow her. Bellamy stopped briefly to grab Monroe’s other arm as she staggered towards the med bay.

“There was an... accident.” Clarke explained. “When we came here, the guards must have thought we were grounders. They started shooting, and a stray bullet hit Anya.” At the looks on their faces, she hurriedly continued, “She’s fine. She had some kind of sigil tattooed onto her skin—that increases her durability or something. And she managed to staunch her bleeding long enough for my mom to get a look at her wound. She’s resting now.”

They stopped outside the med bay, and Mel immediately helped Monroe onto a bed. On the far end lay an unconscious woman. Without the war paint smudged around her eyes, Anya looked almost unrecognizable.

“I managed to get her to trust me.” Clarke said softly. “Or trust me enough to help us get an audience with her Commander.”

“Good work, princess.” He smiled slightly.

“That’s only the first step. We’ll celebrate when we managed to broker a treaty.” She replied, sighing as if she’s shouldering the entire world on her shoulders. Knowing Clarke, she might as well be.

“One thing at a time.” He said. “You need to get some rest too.”

Predictably, she started to protest.

“Hey, we can’t accomplish anything if we’re dead on our feet.” He countered, giving her a stern look.

“Only if you rest too.” Clarke said, raising her brow at him. “And don’t try to lie to me. I can _smell_ your exhaustion.”

“Never going to be not weird.” He muttered, scrunching his nose. He thought about Murphy smelling the magic off him, and he wondered if Clarke knew as well. Then he shook his head inwardly because all this overthinking was making him even more tired.

“Deal.” He compromised.

She smirked at him, as if she wasn’t going to rest too. There’s far too much smugness going around today for him to handle. Rolling his eyes, he flopped down on an empty bed, only remembering to toss his boots off. He heard a soft rustle as Clarke slipped into the bed next to him.

He must be really as exhausted as Clarke said, because he dozed off immediately.


	9. Chapter 9

Good news, Anya managed to get a meeting with her Commander. Bad news, Finn murdered a village full of innocents and now the grounders were baying for his blood in return.

Bellamy should never have let him go off alone. He should have known Murphy would be useless in keeping Finn out of trouble. But then again, one would have expected _Murphy_ being the troublesome one instead.

When Clarke slipped the knife into Finn’s, he had to suck in a breath at the sight. Raven wailed in his arms, fighting to reach her boyfriend, and he was fortunate that she was just a normal or she might have torn him to shreds for holding her back. All he could see was Clarke’s cold, hard eyes, glittering with tears and her bloodied lip as she made her way back to their side.

He has too much on his plate to worry about, and as much as he wanted to stay by her side, he doesn’t know how to help Raven. There’s the alliance to finalize with the grounders, which wasn’t his concern at the moment. Clarke might have been the one holding the knife, but _they_ fucking killed Finn. He left it to Abby and Kane to deal with the Commander and went back to the Dropship after handing Raven over to Wick.

Lincoln has been released from his chains, and he’s awake, thankfully sane again. He gave him a weak nod when Bellamy dropped in. Octavia glanced at him worriedly.

“She’s out there.” She informed. “What happened? She came in to check on Lincoln looking like death and refused to talk.”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” He said dryly, ducking back out. He’s not going to be the one to inform his sister that Clarke killed Finn.

He found the blonde sitting on an overturned log, staring blankly at the ground. Her hands were still stained with Finn’s blood. He sat down silently beside her.

“He’s one of mine. Part of _my_ pack, and I killed him like he was nothing. I should have fought harder.” She choked, nails digging into her palms. “I should have killed Lexa instead.”

“And then all of us will be dead now.” He answered gently.

She lowered her head, her blond hair tangled and dirty as it spilled down her shoulders. Her shoulders shook once, before she seemed to steel herself and goes terrifying still.

“Have I done the right thing, Bellamy?” She asked.

He could tell her _yes,_ could say that she had done the right thing with Finn. He could reassure her guilt. He could tell her that a leader makes hard decisions, even if they were not happy with the consequences. But he won’t.

He’s not a wolf, but he knew that wolves valued their pack more strongly than anything in the world. And he could understand that, a little, when he thought of Octavia and what killing her would do to him.

“It’s not the easy thing.” He said simply.

It’s not enough to erase the blood from Clarke’s hands, or the memory of Raven breaking in his arms, but when she glanced up at him slowly, her bottom lip trembling from the force of her tears, he thought that perhaps the weight would be less heavy to carry, as long as they did it together.

* * *

After Gustus’s death, Bellamy was really getting sick of people dying. They were trying to negotiate a fucking alliance here to save all their friends, but these grounders and their fucking grandmothers seemed to be fond of dealing with everything through violence.

He couldn’t help but complain this to Clarke.

“Things are fragile between us now.” She said wryly, unable to resist a smile at his annoyance. “We are basically the invaders that had landed on their territory, destroyed their villages with our flares and burned their people. They have no reason to trust us.”

“ _They_ tortured Raven.” He said coldly, feeling a rush of vindictiveness at her wince. “ _They_ choose to wage war with us when we asked for peace. We do not have any better reason to trust them either.”

He’s not going to forget his helplessness as he watched a friend being tortured while tied to a pole and not even given a chance to defend herself.

“We need a plan.” He decided. “We need to speak with Lexa, and decides on a plan _now_. Before someone comes along to try to fuck this alliance up again.”

Clarke considered pensively while he frowned at her impatiently. He would have marched right off to wrangle a damn meeting with the Commander himself if he hadn’t seen the respect in Lexa’s eyes when she looked at Clarke.

That evening, she got the meeting like he wanted.

“That acid fog needs to be deactivated, or else we won’t be able to get near Mount Weather at all.” Clarke said, staring at the map on the table. “They will be able to track an army approaching with their technology.”

And just like that, he knew what he must do.

“We need an inside man.” He mused, the first word he had said throughout the whole meeting. He preferred to stand back and listened to Lexa and Clarke exchanged ideas and discussed tactics with Indra and Anya.

Clarke has always looked at the big picture, but he’s all about the tiny details. He needed to get all the facts right before he starts his planning.

“You say there are mines underground. We can sneak in through there.” He continued, once he got everyone’s attention. “Once we infiltrated the Mountain, we will get in contact with Raven out here and shut down the acid fog.” Octavia was going to kill him for this, but— _he’s_ the only one who knew the mines intimately. “Lincoln could guide us in. He knew his way around the mines better than anyone here.”

“You trust Lincoln to infiltrate the Mountain?” Anya asked curtly. “This plan has to work, or none of us will be able to approach—much less attack the Mountain Men.”

“I trust Lincoln.” He conceded, and it fully surprised him when the truth rang on his lips, when weeks ago, he wouldn’t even have hesitated shooting the man for kidnapping his sister. “But he’s not going in. _I_ am.”

There was a beat of stunned silence, and he felt a little pleased to have coax out an emotion other than stoic emotionlessness from Lexa.

“No.” Clarke _snarled_. Her skin seemed to shiver, like she’s on the verge of transforming.

He ignored her and kept his eyes on Lexa instead, despite the quiver around his shoulders at the intense glare being directed at his direction.

“It’s risky.” Lexa agreed, frowning at him. “And this plan counts on you succeeding for us to be able to move in. If you fail, this whole operation would fail.”

“If I do not go in, then everything will fail all the same.” He countered.

He glanced at the other two women, checking in on their expressions. Anya looked thoughtful, as if she’s appraising his plan. Indra looked as imperturbable as ever, but with a deeper than usual frown that he honestly couldn’t tell what it means.

Indra’s a normal human, but she’s a freaking badass. Everyone should fear her.

And of all the people she could have looked up to, Octavia had taken this woman as her role model.

“We can’t afford to place this entire plan on a single man’s shoulders.” Lexa said firmly. “You’re not a warrior trained for this. There are far too many inconsistencies to consider, and we only have a map that shows the general layout of the Mountain. There will be security defences in place that we do not know.”

“That’s why I’ll be getting in contact with my people in there. Monty’s good with technology.” He said sharply. He knew the risks and danger and the gravity of his mission. Does she really think that he’s volunteering because he wanted to be a fucking hero?   

“Heda, I think we should send him in.” Anya spoke up decisively.

“ _No._ We’re not risking Bellamy’s life.” Clarke snapped.

Before he could formulate a response, Anya glared at her fiercely. “It’s a strategic move. Send him in to switch off the acid fog and we can move in with our army. You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgement, Clarke. We have been warring with the Mountain Men for years, and right now, this is the best plan we got. Can you come up with anything better?”

No, because Bellamy has been going through all the possible strategies in his head during the past one hour they have spent bickering over the maps. This was the best way possible.

“This is not worth your safely.” Clarke said to him, visibly struggling for calm. “You’re _not_ going.” She tossed a vicious look around the room. “And this is not up for discussion.”

 _I don’t take your orders_ , he thought furiously, but remained silent. He’s not going to pick a fight with her in front of the grounders. Right now, despite his anger at Clarke, they needed to remain united in front of Lexa.

“Heda—” Anya protested.

Lexa raised a hand, closing her eyes briefly. “Enough, Anya.” She glanced at Clarke. “There’s too many variables in this plan. I’m not going to chance the lives of my people on such a risky scheme.”

He knew there’s no point in fighting anymore. He’s going to end up losing this battle if he chose to pursue the matter. First rule of defeat; retreat to devise another plan.

He would need Anya’s help for this.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Anya was furious, and she was doing her best to control her temper in front of her _seken._ To her credit, Tris was unflappable as she listened patiently to Anya’s angry ranting.

“There’s no better time to strike now.” She scowled, pacing back and forth in front of the younger girl, her footsteps crackling on the grass. “Clarke is allowing her feelings to cloud her judgment! We won’t have any other chance to attack the Mountain Men!”

Bellamy’s plan had been logical. The acid fog had been the one obstacle impeding any possibility of attacking Mount Weather for so many years. Without shutting down the acid fog, their army has no chance of even _thinking_ of approaching.  

“You’re right.” A low, dry voice said from somewhere behind her.

She stiffened in surprise, her hand flying to her hip, where her sword was holstered in her belt. However, before she could pull out her sword to strike the fool that dared to sneak up to her, the hilt twisted in her hand and remained jammed in its sheath. 

"Oh." Tris murmured in surprise. "Belomi kom Skaikru."

The sky man gave her a small, stiff smile before looking up at Anya. The last vestiges of her fury faded away as she studied the young male in front of her. She had expected many things from these people who have fallen from the sky, and yet each and every one of them has continued to surprise her.

"You're a witch." She observed mildly.  

He shrugged, tugging at the hem of his worn jacket in discomfort.

"You're right." He repeated. It took a moment before Anya remembered what he was talking about. "Clarke's letting her emotions interfere with her judgement. She's an Alpha who was forced to leave her pack behind in that place. You can't blame her for being emotional." He took a deep breath and stared at her, and she was struck by the resolve burning in his eyes like embers. Perhaps she has underestimated this man. 

Unlike Lexa, who dismissed this Bellamy Blake in favour for her fascination with Clarke, Anya was slower to trust these strange people who have invaded their land. And while Clarke had obtained her respect, she doesn’t really think highly of the Alpha’s people as a whole. They were not warriors, and most of their main fighters were mere children.

But clearly Clarke had allowed this man to stand beside her as equals for a reason. Before, she found it baffling that an Alpha like Clarke had permitted a normal to co-lead their people. But now, she's starting to understand their dynamics a little more. It's not often that another witch could sneak up to her with stealth _and_ magic.

"We need an inside man." He said calmly. "You'll have to convince Lexa." 

"This is absurd, Anya. No wolf is going to be happy letting their witch enter such dangerous grounds alone!" Tris exclaimed, looking horrified by his insinuation.

"I am no one's witch." He retorted sharply. 

Anya frowned and stared at him harder. He and Clarke had come before their Commander as a united team. It was hard not to notice how they moved, like stars orbiting around each other. She noted his clenched jaw and agitated expression and came to a startling realization.

He was an unbonded witch that co-lead his people with a powerful Alpha wolf—who has no witch of her own. Anya couldn't understand why Clarke had not bonded with him yet!

"I am not bounded to any wolf in my... _clan_. And Clarke does not know that I’m a witch. Or if she does, it’s merely suspicions." He said. "If I fail, Clarke's pack will not be affected. But if I don't, we might be able to save our people." His stare was cold and unrelenting. "We need an inside man to switch off that acid fog." 

Anya’s eyes widened with shock, although she kept the rest of her expression impassive. It _does_ explained why Clarke had not bonded with this witch yet, if she has no idea that her co-leader was one. Of course, most witches tended to go about their entire lives unbonded. A wolf pack _needs_ a witch, but a witch doesn’t need a pack. But as co-leaders, and both who clearly trusted each other with their lives, she had naturally assumed that wolf and witch would have bond with each other.

She does not understand his reasoning—a pack worked so much smoother with a witch to stabilize the bond. But she’s not going to pry while it’s not her place.

On the ground, Bellamy realized that things worked very differently from the Ark. The grounders respected their witches. Being a pack’s witch gave you status, depending on how high-ranking the Alpha was. Like how Anya was the witch for Lexa’s pack. The grounders would probably find it distasteful to send a witch into Mount Weather alone and defenceless, but Bellamy has never been helpless, magic or no magic.

“You _need_ to convince Lexa that it’s the only way.” He said, hoping that logic would trumped any lingering grounders’ sentiments regarding witches. “Clarke would fall behind the plan if you can sway Lexa to our side.”

He felt bad for trying to manipulate Clarke, but they had made a promise. Their people above themselves.

He would get those kids out of Mount Weather, no matter what.

“Our people is in there. _Dying_.” He prodded urgently.

Anya gave him a sour look, but there was respect gleaming in her eyes now when she looked at him. He’s not too sure if he’s looking for approval from these grounders, but having it felt nice.

“You’ll set out at first light.” She said abruptly, before turning around swiftly. 

Tris stood up hurriedly, giving him a wide-eyed look before she scurried after the older woman. Once they were gone, he let out a relieved breath. His sister would not be happy about this, but he’s not going to change his mind about his decision.


	11. Chapter 11

Lincoln was giving him a look of disapproval, although he remained silent as they set off towards Mount Weather. He apparently shared the mindset that a witch should be kept safe, and not go off gallivanting into enemy grounds _alone_.

At least he could trust Lincoln to keep his mouth shut.

“Octavia told me that you have not inform Clarke about your magic.” Of course, just when Bellamy thought that he’s going to stay quiet the whole journey, the grounder decided to speak up just when they were an hour away from Mount Weather. He sighed in aggravation, hoping that he doesn’t have to rehash a similar argument that he already had with Clarke before he left.

“I will.” He flushed. “If I survive this.”

He just couldn’t find the time, alright? He hadn’t trust her in the beginning, and then after that, with all the shit that’s been going on—with Finn’s death and the shaky alliance with Trikru, it’s not like he’s going to spring this on Clarke.

Lincoln’s disapproving look seemed to increase, if it’s even possible. He blatantly ignored the grounder.

He has a mission ahead of him to focus on. It’s no time to be dwelling on Clarke. She’s waiting with Raven for his radio transmission and he needed to concentrate.

“If Clarke knows, she would never have allowed you on this mission.” Lincoln said seriously.

He bit his lip to hold back his instinctive snarl. His sister’s grounder beau was already physically intimidating without his supernatural strength, but Bellamy turned around abruptly to shoot him a furious glare that practically spat fire, not backing down in front of the wolf.

“I’m sure the people on the ground loves to indulges their witches, but the way we people from the Ark works? It’s _different_.” He snapped. Witches were not respected, or admired on the Ark. They were pests at best, and while their magic was useful when it came to domestic chores, they were also too unpredictable and incomprehensible for the Arkers. “So, it doesn’t matter if Clarke agrees to this mission or not, I’ll _still_ be on this mission. I don’t take orders from her, and I’m the only one capable enough to go into Mount Weather.”

No one trusted a witch up on the Ark. That’s why he hid his magic his entire life. He has seen the prejudice people have towards witches. There’s no need to trouble his mother even further when life for the Blakes were already hard enough.

With magic regarded with such caution on the Ark, people rarely practiced the craft anymore. Fox had been right back then. The witches on the ground were vastly different from the ones in space.

“Perhaps your culture demands the respect for witches. That’s good.” Even as he spoke with anger, he could tell that it’s half-hearted. This wasn’t worth getting this worked up. “But our way of life is different from yours.”

He wanted to smack the look off the wolf’s face, but he was too tired and nervous about his mission to bother. They have seen the grounders as savages—and some of the Arkers still held that stubborn opinion despite their tentative alliance, but Bellamy had to wonder if the grounders saw _them_ as the ones being primitive.

It’s not something he wanted to mull over, not now anyway.

“We better hurry.” He muttered brusquely, turning his back on Lincoln to continue stalking through the woods.

To his relief, the other man didn’t pursue the matter, but he has a nagging feeling that if the both of them survived this, this conversation was going to make their way to Octavia’s ears.

He’ll deal with that when it comes. For now, he has his kids to worry about.

* * *

Plans have a tendency to disintegrate, he realized. It made him wondered why he even bothered trying to come up with plans when they never seemed to work.

It wasn’t in the plan that he was to be captured and taken to be harvested for his blood. He should have known better than to bring Lincoln along, who had just barely recovered and detoxed from the drug that turned him into a reaper. Now he couldn’t even spare his energy to be worried for the grounder, since he’s trapped in a fucked-up situation of his own.

He was lucky that Maya had come upon him and saved him just in time.

His hands shook slightly as he slipped on the guard uniform, averting his gaze from the corpse lying on the ground. He walked towards Echo’s cage and grabbed her hand through the cage.

“I’ll come back.” He promised. “I won’t be long.”

The grounder stared at him unflinchingly, her dark eyes hard and suspicious. She nodded sharply, watching him leave with Maya.

“Is everyone okay?” He asked, tugging his hat down further over his eyes as they passed by an overhead camera.

“Some of the kids were already taken.” Maya whispered. “But none dead yet, as far as I know.”

He inhaled slowly, resolve solidifying in his chest as he followed behind her. There were a few close-calls that nearly made his heart jumped out of his throat.

He didn’t know what he was imagining the Mountain Men to be, but he hadn’t expected children, women and the elderly. These people were like him, trying to survive in an unforgiveable world. It didn’t dampen his resolve, but it made his mission harder.

“They are just up ahead.” Maya said.

He looked up, just in time for his eyes to meet Jasper’s. The younger boy’s jaw dropped in shock, recognition flickering across his face. An alarm suddenly blared, the sound cutting through his tension. The doors to the dorm slammed shut, and even without supernatural hearing, he could hear the sound of locks sliding into place. Jasper slammed into the door, mouthing frantically through the glass panels.

“Change of plan.” Bellamy hissed. “I need a radio now.”

Maya stared up at him with wide, frightened eyes, but if she has any thoughts of backing out, she decided not to bring it up.

“Follow me.” She said earnestly.


	12. Chapter 12

He has been crawling through fucking air vents and trash chutes, in spaces too tight for a decent human being to be creeping through. It didn’t help that he’s still feeling the effects of blood loss and the searing hot bath he was forced to undergo to ‘cleanse’ him.

“Alright, we have to go now.” He ordered, scanning the roomful of kids that were staring at him with scared eyes. “But we can’t be travelling in such a large group. We need to split up to move faster.”

“Bellamy, Bellamy,” Jasper panted, holding Maya close to him. “They gave us some stuffs that sedated our wolves. The effects are wearing off on Miller’s, but I still can’t feel my strength.”

He reached out to shake Jasper slightly, stretching out his magic to curl around the slumbering wolf in him.

“You’ve been protecting everyone the entire time. You show that you’re capable of doing that without your wolf strength.” He said firmly. “But things are going to get even more dangerous from now on, so I _do_ need your wolf strength to continue protecting our people.”

“The suppressor takes time for it to disappear entirely from the body.” Maya explained. “And Jasper just had his last dose two days ago.”

“We don’t have to wait for the suppressor to wear off. We don’t have the time anyway.” He mused, shaking his head thoughtfully. “We just need the wolf to wake up.”

Jasper looked confused.

“Okay, I’m going to need your help with this.” He muttered, stepping up close to Jasper and blinking at how tall the boy was. He’s shooting up like a damn tree and doesn’t seemed to be stopping.

He reached out and mentally touched the _wildness freedom predator_ , sucking in a startled breath at the rush of power. He could sense the wolf trying to shrug him off, like shaking off an annoyance. Slowly, but insistently, he prodded the wolf awake, his sluggish mind and fraying control struggling to contain the savagery in Jasper. He needed the wolf to wake up, not for it to go out of control.

He pulled at the wolf, trying to drag the stupid beast out of its sleep. It trembled, but refused to move any further, stubborn and difficult.

“Come on, Jasper, I need you on this as well!” He snapped, glaring up at the wolf.

Jasper blinked dumbly, looking perplexed. “Wha—”

 _“Wake up, Jasper!”_ Bellamy yelled impatiently.

The sudden command stiffened Jasper’s spine, and he recoiled in shock as the beast roared awake in irritation. It was akin to an Alpha’s order, but his Alpha was _Clarke_ , not Bellamy. Yet it’s like his body instinctively reacted to an Alpha command from Clarke. But in some ways—it was different as well. For one, he _could_ disobey Bellamy’s command, but he doesn’t want to. He reeled forward with a strangled gasp and his eyes flared bright blue without conscious decision.  

 _Witch_ , he thought. He didn’t know how, but he simply _knew._

“What the fuck, Bellamy.” Monty blurted.

Bellamy shook his head in irritation, checking to make sure Jasper’s in control of himself. He has already wasted enough time dawdling here.

“How did you do that?” Maya asked, narrowing her eyes shrewdly.

He couldn’t credit it entirely to himself. Jasper _trusted_ him, for some unfathomable reason. Maybe it’s why he’s the first to bond with Clarke. Maybe it’s why Jasper’s wolf had accepted his magic so easily.

“Magic.” He said sarcastically, turning to hurry down the hallway and marshalling the rest of the delinquents into different groups. “I need to shut off the acid fog before Clarke and the grounders can enter the Mountain.”

“The rest of you,” He stared hard at his delinquents. “Stay safe. Keep your heads down and be ready to fight.” He looked at each and every youthful face, wondering who would survive the upcoming fight. The thought of losing any more of his people sickened him. “War is coming.”

 _Live, all of you_ , he prayed desperately.


End file.
